Burning Bridges
by Ferowyn
Summary: Whatever Erik had expected to come from the ancient mutant's crusade, he hadn't wanted Charles to be a part of it, to see him like this - but he should have known better. Of course he should have known better.


This is no prompt fill, but something that has been stuck in my head ever since I watched Apocalypse.  
I don't really like how it turned out, but I had to get it out of my system before I could get on with my writing, so… it happened. Things do.  
Also, I know I already used that title for a HP-fic, but there wasn't any song that would've fit this piece better.

* * *

 **Burning Bridges**

He had loved Magda, he really had.

Maybe not with all his heart, maybe not as much as he had lov-

No, he wouldn't go there. It didn't matter.

What mattered was that he _had_ loved her. Magda had been his wife. The mother of his daughter. His _family_.

She had made him feel content.

Losing her like that, through violence caused by humans who once again feared _him_ -

Who had killed her.

Her, and Nina.

Nina – his beautiful, brilliant, mutant daughter, whom he had promised that he never would be taken from.

Now she had been taken from _him_.

Taken, in the cruellest of ways.

Nina-

The sunshine in his life.

Where Magda had made it tolerable, had made hiding and pretending to be a human and leaving all those other mutants to fend for themselves bearable – Nina had made his days worth living.

He likes to think that Charles-

 _No_.

He was _not_ going there. He'd promised himself, and-

That was a bridge he had burnt too long ago, and rigged with too much dynamite before setting it on fire. It was a bridge shot in a vital beam by a single wayward bullet, a bridge wrought from iron but left crumbling by a metallokinetic too proud to look back, a bridge torn apart and left in pieces to be washed away by the torrents it had braved and surmounted for so long.

A bridge that had been his connection between rage and serenity once, and his one path to hope. Happiness. _Love_.

When he had burnt it and left without looking back he had forsaken all of those as well.

And some things… some things cannot be undone.

But he had found refuge in an empty cottage in Poland, and contentment in Magda's arms, and almost-happiness in Nina's smiles.

Only to lose all of that in a single moment, through a single shot (it reminded him painfully of someone else whom another single shot cost everything-)

…

For a few moments, he managed to hold on.

Managed to battle the rage, the grief, the sense of betrayal.

To stay locked in an endless moment, afloat in waves of disbelief.

Then the painful reality of having lost his two anchors to this last attempt of living a peaceful life crashed into him, and with the realization that he'd lost someone else, and that it was his fault – his mutation – that took them once again (Shaw wouldn't have killed his mother if he hadn't wanted to provoke Erik's powers, those men wouldn't have come if he hadn't saved that fellow worker, Charles wouldn't have been paralyzed if-) came the confirmation that humans _must_ not be trusted, and the regret for ever having done so in the first place (Magda was an exception, there are always exceptions, like MacTaggert-).

And then the hatred hit home.

He felt no remorse at killing them, not those men who were responsible for the loss of his wife and daughter, and the locket – the locket became another deadly symbol, much like the coin all those years ago, the coin that had cost his mother's life and fed off Shaw's lifeblood in return-

And when he stood, hands dirty after having dug a grave behind the cottage that had almost been home, clothes sodden from the downpour that had started what seemed like ages ago, dark patches on his trousers from where he had knelt – he did not look back once again as another bridge crumbled to dust behind him, this time set aflame by a group of policemen afraid of what they could not control.

And the small, cosy house burned with the same intensity as the last connection to who had been his family.

And when Apocalypse came, to recruit him as one of his horsemen… Erik didn't hesitate. He didn't wonder why he was asked to join the ancient mutant's crusade and Charles wasn't. He didn't consider the moral conflicts this might have raised in any other person. He didn't think about how Magda, and Nina, and Charles- … wouldn't have wanted this.

He didn't _feel_.

En Sabah Nur wanted to see the world burn, and Erik was more than willing to be lighter, fuel, tinder or fuse, whatever the other mutant needed to set fire to everything that had ever hurt him.

Oh, he was not one to follow orders, and even less those of a man who reminded him so terribly of Shaw in his arrogance and god complex – but Apocalypse had killed those that had betrayed him as an offering, and then he had reached out and touched what made him _Magneto_ , unlocking every single bit of power that had always been there, in his genes, supressed but waiting, and now-

It was not the burning of the world he craved. (Oh it was, but not at the expense of other mutants, _never_ at the expense of-)

Nor was it the sheer force of his ability. (Oh it was, but what did it matter when those he had wanted to protect with it had already been hurt-)

And it certainly wasn't revenge that made him follow Apocalypse. (Oh it _was_ , but at what _price_ -)

No, it was the sudden sensation of every metallic atom around him, the soothing hum of the magnetic fields, the reassuring buzz of every electromagnetic wave.

The constant droning and whirring and _purring_ was enough to drown out the grief and the pain and almost even the hatred-

And Erik buried himself in the sensation of the metal surrounding him, refusing to mourn this new loss of his family.

When Apocalypse took them to X-Mansion Erik would've been glad that he'd buried himself so deeply in the feeling of _his element_ around him, had he felt more than the comforting hum of the metal structures of Cerebro and the corridors leading there.

Seeing Charles was like a punch in the gut as it was, he wouldn't have needed even more emotions (griefangerpainguilt _love_ -) to rush through his veins, attempting to tear him from the almost senseless state he had worked so hard to reach.

They left again moments later, Charles with them even though involuntarily, and Erik had always wanted him by his side, but not like this, not with the telepath having no choice, and Apocalypse only planning to use him-

He would have regretted having accepted En Sabah Nur's offer, had he still felt.

Whatever he had expected to come from the ancient mutant's crusade, he hadn't wanted Charles to be a part of it, to see him like this-

But he should have known better.

 _Of course_ he should have known better.

After all, the younger one was always there to save the humans and plead for their lives (and they better start appreciating that soon-), stopping whoever needed to be stopped for their sakes, be it a crazy Nazi mutant, his sister or his ex-lover-

Oh no, Erik had not wanted him to know. To _see_.

But it was too late now, and all he could do was hold on and make it through the ride – he was one of the _horsemen_ , after all – and hope that Charles would not hate him when it was over… or at least no more than he probably already did.

Perhaps… perhaps he could go and apologize, once things would have settled down again, and share his memories of his beloved Nina with the younger one-

He should have known better, _again_.

Apocalypse wasn't a bridge, or the means to build new ones; he was dynamite and pyromaniac in one, leaving destruction wherever he went and burning other's bridges much like he must have burned his own, long ago.

Oh, Erik really should've expected it.

Charles was way too powerful, way too _interesting_ for En Sabah Nur to leave be once he had sent out and broadcasted his message. He didn't understand at first – what Apocalypse wanted to do with the telepath, what it would mean for Charles, drowning himself in other thoughts and sensations as he did. But his sixth sense stayed locked onto the iron particles in his ex-lover's (not ex, never ex-) blood, circling through his body and streaming through his veins much like the metal flowing around him to add to Apocalypse's sick temple-

Perhaps he should try and force himself to leave that sensation- and thoughtless state after all, not between rage and serenity but so much deeper, so deep he wasn't even sure he _could_ leave again if he wanted to, his mind lost in the magnetic field of the earth-

Suddenly Charles' pulse rose as if he were doing something extremely exhausting, and Erik knew that the others were there, Mystique and MacTaggert and Beast, and that they would save him… right?

Then _something_ touched his mind, a brief contact so soft he would've thought he'd imagined it, if a single thought weren't echoing in his mind.

 _Goodbye, my friend._

And, just like that, the particles in Charles' blood stopped moving.

What-

Erik's mind snapped back to where it had been before Apocalypse had come for him, to the grief and hatred and _agony_ -

En Sabah Nur's cry was filled with impossible rage when he suddenly appeared in the space in front of his palace, where his forces and the X-Men were still fighting each other.

 _The little bastard shut down his own brain-_

And just like that, Erik's world stopped turning.

He had always known that Charles would pull through. Whatever happened, the telepath would brave it and be there – maybe not by his side and not in his arms, maybe in a wheelchair and on the other side of the world, but _alive_.

Whenever Erik would've wanted to feel his presence he could've reached out to the mind that still felt so familiar, even after that short a touch-

Ripping off the helmet he frantically called out in desperate thought, hoping for an answer, any answer-

The metal around him remained still, frozen mid-air as he _begged_ for Charles to enter his mind once more.

Then a single scream tore through the silence around him, filled with all the desperation and grief and pain Erik himself felt battle for supremacy in his own broken heart.

A blue blur threw itself at Apocalypse, only to be followed by another one but moments later.

And he knew – he _knew_ – that what he had thought irretrievably lost, what he had believed to be naught but ashes and dust had still been there. Hidden, yes, battered, _yes_ , but a thin, delicate bridge had still spanned the chasm between him and Charles, fine but strong ropes wrought by friendship and lo- … but it had been torn apart when Charles' blood had stopped flowing, that single last connection that had carried the telepath's goodbye to him despite the helmet and the magnetic field around him.

The single bridge that could have meant the world to him, had he realized its presence in time, and Apocalypse had broken it down without care.

The _bastard_.

But as Erik watched Beast and Mystique – _Hank_ and _Raven_ – throw themselves at En Sabah Nur only to be thrown back, as Quicksilver – Pietro! – ran to join them and the boy who could only be Havoc's (Alex'!) brother tore off his glasses he realized that there was one single bridge still standing, battered but not broken, and he knew that it was time to make a choice.

No more bridges would go down.

And when metal spikes came shooting toward the ancient mutant, when Raven and Hank teamed up to rescue Pietro, when Moira's bullets came flying in time with his own attacks and the new blue boy (Kurt?) hopped to take Alex' brother to attack from different angles, when Storm rose into the air and sent a lightning to save those she had been told to kill – when Charles' perhaps strongest pupil confronted Apocalypse in his own twisted mind…

Erik knew that this last bridge was worth fighting for.

And that the only way it would fall was if he went down with it.


End file.
